Friday Afternoon - December 18

Rita and Norman walked into Drew's office. Oliver and Shane stood there, waiting. A large easel holding a poster board, covered with a black cloth, stood next to Drew's desk.

"He'll be right in," Norman said.

The words had barely left Norman's mouth when Drew entered the room.

"Oliver. Shane. It's a pleasure to see you again," Drew said. "What can I do for you?"

"We have something for you," Oliver said. "A very special Christmas gift."

Oliver lifted the cloth from the poster board.

"Future site of the Andrew J. Carlson Home for Children," Drew read. He looked from Oliver to Shane to Norman to Rita. "How is this possible? We aren't even close to having the necessary funds for this project."

"Drew, we're not just the Dead Letter Task Force for the US Postal Service," Norman said.

"We also comprise the executive committee of the Board of Directors of the O'Toole Foundation," Rita finished.

"O'Toole Foundation?" Drew asked.

"A philanthropic foundation began with funds given to me by a father I never knew," Oliver said. "His unusual success resulted in a rather remarkable fortune of which I am the custodian."

"Do you mind if I sit?" Drew asked.

"Please do," Oliver said. The POstables took chairs in front of Drew's desk.

"What does this organization have to do with the Children's Home?" Drew asked.

"Simply put," Oliver said. "The O'Toole Foundation has assumed all financial responsibility for the new children's home. You will remain Director. All matters involved in the management of the facility are entirely under your control."

Oliver reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a packet, and handed it to Drew.

"We took the liberty of providing a list of contractors for the construction of the buildings, but please don't feel obligated to use them," Oliver said. "You may choose other vendors if you wish."

Drew leaned against the chair back. "I don't know what to say, or how to thank you."

"There's no need. Our satisfaction will be in knowing that we played a small part in fulfilling a dream between a grandfather and his grandson. The Andrew J. Carlson Home for Children will be a legacy to your grandpa for many years to come. If you have time tomorrow, I'd be pleased to accompany you to Bainbridge Island to approve the property."

"I think that can be arranged," Drew said.

"Excellent. I'll meet you at Denver International Airport at 9:00 am."

Shane took her cell phone from her purse and typed for a minute. "I've e-mailed your boarding pass."

Drew got up and covered the poster again. "Could you please take this with you? I want to keep this between us for a few days. I will announce it on Christmas Eve after the pageant, a fitting conclusion to what promises to be a very special evening. We will see you and Shane at the pageant?"

"We wouldn't miss it," Shane said.

"One small request," Oliver said. "Please don't reveal our names or ask us to come to the front of the church. The members of The O'Toole Foundation prefer anonymity."

Friday Evening - December 18

Shane hung the snowflake photo ornament of her, Oliver, and Joe on the tree. "Our 'family tree' is complete," she said.

Oliver came up behind her. He put his arms around her waist, turned her to face him, and kissed her forehead. "It is truly a beautiful Christmas tree," he said.

"What shall we do with these?" Oliver said, extending his hand to all the framed pictures laid across the coffee table. "The fireplace mantle is unavailable at the moment."

Shane walked over to the bookcase. "We could put them in front of the books for the holiday. Unless you plan on doing a lot of reading between now and Christmas Day."

"I believe the next week will be filled with holiday festivities. There will be little time for reading," Oliver said. picking up the pictures and joining Shane at the bookcase. He handed them to Shane one by one, and she arranged them on the shelves.

Buzzzz! The oven timer sounded loud and long.

"Dinner's ready," Shane said. She went to the kitchen and took a large roasting pan from the oven.

Oliver lifted the lid and took a long, appreciative sniff. "This smells delicious."

"One of my mother's recipes," Shane said. She lifted a pot roast from the pan and laid it on a serving platter, then surrounded it with roasted potatoes, carrots, and pearl onions.

Shane handed the platter to Oliver. "Take this to the table. I'll grab the salads from the refrigerator."

Shane set the salad bowls on the table. The bowls contained clementine segments, chopped pears, apples, kiwis, bananas, and mangos tossed in a lemon-lime syrup.

Oliver filled glasses with red wine, held out a chair for Shane, and then joined her at the table.

After enjoying their meal, Oliver and Shane made short work of the dishes and retired to the living room sofa. Fresh cups of coffee sat on the table.

Shane kicked off her shoes, curled her legs up, and nestled in the crook of Oliver's arm. His arm tightened gently around her and he pulled her close. They sat together in comfortable silence for several minutes.

Shane looked up at Oliver's face. His eyes had a faraway look.

"What are you thinking about?" Shane asked.

"I was thinking that of all the items we have returned in the past few years, a fishing pole has to be the most unusual."

"Unless you count Beartezar," Shane said.

Oliver's eyes met Shane's and smiled. "Of course. We must not forget Beartezar."

Shane handed Oliver his coffee, picked up her cup, and took a swallow.

"The photos for the ornaments turned out well," Shane said. "Even the picture of Harvey and your mother."

"I must admit, Phil did an amazing job restoring an old and damaged photo," Oliver said. "There are certain advantages to modern technology. In this circumstance, at least."

Shane laughed. "You still eschew the modern age." She reached up and caressed the side of his face. "It is one of the things I love about you. My old-fashioned gentleman."

Shane looked at the clock on the wall and gasped. "I didn't realize how late it is. You need to take me home. You have an early flight in the morning."

Shane put on her shoes, took Oliver's cup, and carried both cups to the kitchen sink.

Oliver brought Shane her coat and donned his own. He handed Shane her purse.

Shane reached for Oliver's hand. "I'll miss you," she said.

Oliver's eyes darkened to the deepest blue. "I shall miss you, as well," he said and took Shane into his arms.